


Pink Lotuses and Cornflowers Blues

by Mistu_Shipper



Category: Story Thieves Series - James Riley
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Secret Santa 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistu_Shipper/pseuds/Mistu_Shipper
Summary: an introspective study between kara and kiel’s developing relationship
Relationships: Kara Dox & Kiel Gnomenfoot
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6





	Pink Lotuses and Cornflowers Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spark_Doodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spark_Doodles/gifts).



> happy secret santa, spark! hope you enjoy this present i made!

The Mageristern boy twisted the brass doorknob as he entered the small, quaint ice cream shop. He ignored the faint, musical jingle of the bells that had announced his entrance, and chose instead to focus on his search. His footsteps echoed against the checkered floor while he scanned his eyes across the store. A family of four gathered at the counter, looking up at the wide boxes to decide what to order. Others were sitting at the granite tables; they chatted amiably amongst themselves, and ate their flavored ice creams. The sun shone warmly on all of them through the large, clear windows, as if the tranquility of the shop was being blessed by its mere presence.

Although they all seemed like pleasant people, they were not the group of friends that the boy was looking for. 

Instead, he turned his attention to the pinkish girl who sat by herself at the corner of the store. 

Kara Dox.

Everything about her was utterly pink. Her bright and bold dyed hair curled down to her shoulder blades. Strands of her hair swayed with her as she shifted in her seat. Her hand blocked the rosy-colored complexion of her pale face, as she rested it against her cheek. She was looking down, focused on the pretty pink device in her other hand. Decked with a pale pink retro t-shirt covered by a baby blue, unbuttoned jacket, she was just layers of layers of pink. Just one layer of pink on top of the other. 

She reminded the Mageristern of the lotus flower amongst the rest of the normal, plain, plants in the lake back home. That particular flower always seemed to stand out against the normality of life, or the flow of time. They always seem to outgrow the rest of the plants, and even some people that the magician had known. No matter what life threw in the flower’s way, they would survive again and again, even in the muddiest of waters. The roots pull the flower down to the most dirtiest environments, and yet the flower would come up, again and again, just like it always has. The lotus would bloom the next morning, no matter what.

Much like Kara Dox. She refused to go under, and shrivel and die. Instead, she stood up for herself and went against the tide, or society. Maybe her roots did pull her down to her past, or to the force of time, but she held on tight, and bloomed, bright, brilliant, and bold. She pulled herself up and up, back to the surface, where she belonged. Under the immense pressure and stress people such as themselves were always made to experience, Kara Dox survived. 

As he blinked himself out of his musings, he approached the pink-haired girl. The boy tapped her shoulder to gain her attention. She turned her head from her phone to him. Recognition surfaced all over her face. Kara stares at him with wide, blue eyes, and her mouth agape.

“Kiel? What are you doing here?” 

Kiel lifted his eyebrows, with a puzzled expression appearing on his face. That certainly wasn’t the response he had expected. “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ Aren't we supposed to be meeting here?” He turned his head left and right before staring back to Kara. “Where’s Owen and Bethany?”

She blinked, filled with bewildered. “Didn’t you get Owen’s text? He said he and Bethany wouldn’t be able to come because of homework,” she explained. “They’re working on a big project about...something about red and white blood cells? Or the immune system? Not sure honestly.” 

Kiel let out an awkward laugh. He didn’t even know what half of the things she had said. “I don’t really use those...box thingys. Technology confuses me.” 

A look of sympathy is reflected across her face while she nods in understanding. “That makes sense. You’re from Medieval Europe—or what is based on that place.” She added the second part once she saw Kiel’s expression being scrunched up in confusion. She placed her finger to her lips, as she mused to herself, “It’s called… Magisteria, I believe?” 

“The one and only!” He flashed her a reassuring grin. 

The tensions in Kara’s shoulders is released while a goofy smile is shifted onto her face. She bounced within the edge of the plushie seat as she tapped her fingers rhythmically against the table. “Glad I could guess it!” She said with laughter. “It’s really cool your home has magic and dragons and all that mythical stuff! My home is a lot more like Owen’s, so it isn’t that much of a difference for me,” told Kara, as she stood up from her seat. “You should tell me more about it—After I order the ice cream. What flavor do you want?”

Kiel looked behind Kara, to get a glance of the large box that displayed the menu options. He took a minute to mull over his decision. It _has_ been awhile since he had ordered ice cream after all. 

“How about rocky road? It’s a combination of chocolate, nuts, and marshmallows. It’s really good!”

_Chocolate_. That was the main reason he had chosen the new, exquisite flavor. Chocolate had been a novelty to him when he had first tried the flavor, and had stuck to it only since. There was nothing more delightful than the taste of the sweet, delicious cream being melted, and savored inside the depths of his mouth. 

The other being was that Kara Dox had suggested it. From what Kiel has experienced with her, he had no reason to believe her opinion were anything but not to be considered as high regard. He watched her walk right up to the counter, her back facing him. From his angle, he could see her hand gestures as she began to chat with the employee, a small, appreciative half-smile on her face. 

Kara Dox. A kind, considerate person, who seemed to be aware and respectful of other people’s feelings. She was known as a time traveler or criminal to many, and Owen’s good friend to their friend group. A brilliant, and bright lotus flower in the murky depths of pond water. 

And maybe, she could be known as Kiel’s friend too.

“Hey Kiel! I got our ice creams!” She announced, bringing the Magician back to the real world. In each hand, was a cup of ice cream, both rocky road. She placed it on the table, and handed him a spoon. 

“So, back to Magisteria?” asked Kara, anticipation in her tone. She had a grin.

“Back to Magisteria,” Kiel agreed, a broad, wide grin of his own stretched across his face.

* * *

She should be used to the nightmares at this point. 

It had started off normally (it always started off normally), with her drifting thoughts that caused her mind to become tired. She reminisced of the mountainous hike she had with her friends earlier today, and of the tales and stories they told during dinner around the campfire. Those thoughts had brought a small, serene, smile to her face as she stared absently at the roof of the tent. And slowly, but surely, her eyelids began to droop, till she could keep them open no longer. As she blinked her sleepy cerulean eyes, the pine-green colored roof faded to black. The soft, faintly illuminated lantern beside her shone warmly, bringing her comfort as she snoozed. 

That comfort would not last forever. (It never truly does.)

Quickly, the tranquil background of soft, hazy black shifted to what reminded her eerily of danger. Small embers sparked around her, making crackling noises while she stirred at the side of the rubbled-out road. A long, heavy trail of smog filtered through abandoned, buildings with broken windows, into the scorching-hot air. Even from miles away, she could still smell the horrid stench, and couldn’t have helped but wrinkle her nose in pure disdain. Her right hand pinched her nostrils, to block out the air vents that would let the scent into her nose. She twisted her head to the back. Anything that wasn’t covered by the dark haze was enveloped by the blinding yellows, blood oranges, and the fiery, boiling, red. All the colors of flame, fire, and destruction.

She let out a deep, shaky sigh, and shuddered. This was a dream (an utter nightmare)—just the same, recurring dream (nightmare) amongst the many she had each night. No reason to be so...nervous (terrified) of this. It’ll pass. It always does.

Through the sigh, she accidentally inhaled the smoke. Kara let out choked coughs, and occasional gasps of breath. She ignored the tears that had formed and stung at the edge of her eyelids. Instead, she fanned the rest of the surrounding dust out of her face, before she brought her hand back to her side. She squeezed the hand tightly, as her eyes darted around the place. Anxiety churned in the pool of her stomach, while she fidgeted around. She tapped her fingers rhythmically against her thigh, as she counted backwards. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Again and again, Kara repeated the pattern to herself to keep the cresending sense of panic manageable enough to deal with. Something to be distracted by from the impending sense of doom she could sense from this… place (or what was left of it, anyway)

At least there were no people around this time. Whenever she had gotten this kind of dream, there were always people unfortunate enough to be around here. Each were emaciated to the bone, and often burned to a crisp. Those people screamed, and shouted for help, sometimes in Polish, or German, or some other foreign language she couldn’t understand. Sometimes, they would only stare at her with their large, jaded, eyes out of shock, or in pure fear, as if _she_ had released those enormous, frightening flames. (She wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She always had a natural tendency to bring disaster into this world, albeit how unintentional.) 

Kara would always help them of course; it would for against her moral code if she _didn’t_ bother to take action. She’d encourage those people to move, or to get going, or even try to shove them upright. Some got her message, and were able to cooperate. They forced themselves to their feet, and got up. She would then lead them to safety—or at least away from the fire and heat and destruction, as far as she possibly can. Other people weren’t so lucky, and refused to listen to her. They stayed down on the asphalt road, and stared at the ground, never directly facing her in the eye. It was as if they had given up trying; their eyes were devoid of any hope. She really couldn’t have done anything to convince them otherwise to escape from this hellhole. So, she joined those people, and ignored the piles of ashes and demolition all around the place. She’d fisted both of her hands as she witnessed the same scene being played all over and over again. In both endings, she’d always be too late; the fire would reach the threads of their threadbare clothing, before it spread to the rest of their body. Those beings that had life breathed at one point knew of it no more. Right in front of her eyes, they turned to mere soot. 

Then Kara would wake up from the horrific dream. Unscathed from the destruction of the world, like she always was.

She shook herself out of her dizzying thoughts. Perhaps, it’ll be different this time; there could be a different ending. Maybe no one would die for once. After all, this was a lucid dream (nightmare). She was aware of this wasn’t real, how all this was a mere fabrication created by the subconscious of the mind. That’s what her therapist said when she had explained all her dream—no, nightmare sequences. These were nightmares, her therapist had corrected. Nightmares were defined as dreams that brought out strong feelings of fear, terror, distress or anxiety.

That was a considerately _much_ more accurate term for all this, and what it constantly brought her. Especially when she was more awake.

She squeezed her eyes firmly shut while her nails dug into her fists. If she was aware of her lucid...nightmaring, then she could change this. She could change the setting of the dream, and what would happen here. She could change her fate, and feasibly, the nightmare itself. What was known as a nightmare could be seen as a peculiar and fanatical dream, that had no firm meaning in the real world. What happened in the dreamworld would stay there, and not lead her to wake with distress as the first thing on her mind. 

Wouldn’t that be nice for a change?

Another sigh came from the girl, much more settled than the last. She bit her bottom, pale lip while she crossed her fingers. The tension from her shoulder released while her eyelids flew wide open. Slowly, the burning buildings, the glaring oranges, and the harsh, flaming, multitude of colors were engulfed by a blank, colorless background. Instead, the scene was replaced by sheer and utter white. White ceiling, white walls, and white floor. White everything. It was like a canvas, waiting for paint to be splashed all over to create an aesthetical masterpiece. Plenty of opportunity to shape and create whatever she wanted here, to make her own decisions of what would appear. 

Kara had to bite back a smile that tugged on her face. It had worked. Controlling her nightmares (or should she call it dream, now?) had worked. Her therapist was a genius! There was no more flames, no more destruction and no more doom. Most importantly, the appalling sight of people burning to corpses was gone. That visual no longer could haunt her in the far hidden depths of mind, or of subtle hints in reality. She could fix it all in a jiffy with a mere image of her mind. That sounded like an absolutely incredible end to her endless, seething, nightmares. 

Abruptly, a faint smell pulled her out of her musings. The scent wafted through the air, and into her nose. Faintly, it smelled of earth, of freshness, and prosperity, with a slightly peppery note masked within. This time, Kara couldn’t hold back the smile that was trying to burst out earlier. That scent was… unconditionally _heavenly_ . While Kara was uncertain of what the scent exactly was, she utterly adored it. The mysterious fragrance smelled so much _better_ than the sick, revolting stench of smog she had gotten used to in her nightmares. She turned to her back, where the scent was the strongest. Her eyes surveyed for where the pleasant smell came from. 

At last, her line of vision stumbled upon the source of the scent: a floating, mystical, flower. The flower was a beautiful mix of dark and bold prussian blue, with plenty of lush lavender. Petals adorned the dark-purple stigma of the flower, while the precipitation caused dew drops to form on the leaves. The flora practically glowed against the blank, white canvas. It was one tiny dot of color that had been created by mixes and matches of others, to create this new, exquisite shade. A mere, little, minuscule, dot that seemed to want more of the canvas to be filled with vibrant splashes and dots, to create what was known as an illustration. It was known without any uncertainty in mind, that this was an ethereal being. 

Cornflower blue. That was the name of the splendiferous drizzled-covered plant. 

The flower represented wealth, prosperity, and fortune. The wants of humanity. It gave people devoid of ambition (like back in the city) the hope to prosper and to have good wealth. To gain success, whether economically or emotionally. They were all positive attributes to represent in the grand scheme of things, and they were all attributes she has always wanted. She wanted to prosper, to grow and to change into a better person. She wanted wealth—not necessary money, but something that would make her feel successful, to be downright proud of herself and filled with joy. And finally, the aspect Kara so desperately yearned: fortune. The chance of being lucky, of receiving the better things in life for a change. With her disastrous luck, no one could really fault her for wanting (needing) that in her life-span. 

She looked back up to the floating flora again. The numerous varying shades of blues followed by a few purples almost seem to be calling her by now. ‘Come Kara,’ they chant. ‘Come closer and feel us.’ Seemingly, entranced by the spell of the plant, Kara took a small step forward. Then, she took another, and then another. Slowly but surely, she went closer and closer to the being, until she was only mere centimeters away from the floating flower. Slowly, she lifted her right hand up into the air, and touched the face of the delicate petals with her finger. The flower curled around the finger, as it made direct contact. 

As quick as a lightning strike, the plant burst into a pile of flames. Kara jumped back, while she let out a gasp. She gawked as the plant curled into itself while it burned, a lot like the miserable people back in the abandoned town. Never able to escape their perilous fate. The leaves become charred and covered by dust and mold, while the petals’ colors of prussian blue and lush lavender fade from the flower. They are replaced with gray, dull, ashes instead. All Kara can do is watch, just like before. Always watching the world crash and burn around her, no matter what she does to prevent that very fate. Always. Always. Always. 

And abruptly, Kara awakes with a loud, horrid, gasp.

She sat upright in her sleeping bag, while she breathed heavily into the carbon induced atmosphere. The cover was flung off while she stared distantly off into space. She brought her hand to her forehead, and felt the sweat she was practically drenched in. The pink-haired girl took a few deep breaths to calm herself down from the nightmare while she counted backward. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, three, two, one. Eventually, the loud sense of screaming panic ebbed to pure static. She felt numb and blank all over, as she usually did with nightmares. Her shoulders sag with disappointment.

So it didn’t work. Lucid nightmaring didn’t help her dream of joyous, trivial, matters. Everything stayed the same, just with different types of organisms. After all, a flower can burn just as easily like any human can. Both were so, so fragile against the rugged and violent world. Always meant to be burnt down and broken, no matter what it did. Kara tightened her fists, while she allowed her nails to dig deep into her pale skin. It wasn’t fair. Regardless of what happened, she couldn’t escape her fate. It was the same thing over, and over, and over again. It didn’t matter if she was in a different world, or a different dream, or place. She was going to tormented with the past, present, and future. Forever.

Kara shook her head. It wouldn’t bring her any good to think in that mindset. That certainly never solved her any of her problem before, and it especially won’t do her any justice now. She would only bask in her sorrows as she would await for a solution that would never arrive. Instead, what she needed was some time (although she always seem to have more than enough to last a lifetime). Some time to take her mind off of the nightmare. Yeah, that’s right. she would do something productive, to distract herself from the event. She was an action girl, that’s what. Kara forced herself onto her feet, and crawled to the flaps of the tent. She proceeded to unzip the tight opening. Immediately, she was greeted with the rush of cool, fresh air that made her hair drift alongside it. She relished in the breeze for a long moment before she crept out of the tent.

Outside the tent, darkness enveloped the whole entire place. It blended in with the shadows amongst the tall, pointy, pine trees, and small, lush, flowers. It painted the entire inky night sky, with dots of stars and constellations that glowed in the background. Even the campfire in the center of all the tents were blown away by the chilly breezes that only blows by during the most still moments of the night. Everything was utterly hushed, with the exception of Kara’s soft breaths and the occasional hooting noise that echoed throughout the camp. 

Although the camp was usually an inviting place for the teenager, it didn’t suit her mood at the moment. Tonight, it felt too crowded, with far too many people around. The cluttered up tents encircling the campfire certainly didn’t help with the motion of space either. Besides, what if someone came out of their camp, and notice she was here? They were going to ask what she was doing up at such a late hour, and if she was okay. She then she’d have to _explain_ herself to them. She wanted solitude and peace, not someone to vent her problems onto. Venting doesn’t solve anything, no matter what other people (her therapist) says. And besides, it’ll be one issue after the other. And who knows how many issues _she_ has. 

Kara wandered past the disintegrated fire that laid solemnly in the center. She ignored the indigo-colored tent that stood out in the corner. Instead, she headed to the right of the tent. In that direction was a large oak tree, barren of any leaves. All of them had drifted down to the ground by the autumn winds, and had covered the withering grass in a multitude of colors. Colors ranged from crisp amber to chestnut leaves, skittered all over. She firmly stepped on those leaves as she approached the lone tree, causing soft crunching noises to be heard in the sullen silence. Once close enough, Kara leaned against the bark, while she stuffed her hands into her faded jeans. She stared solemnly against the moon, as if it could give her answers to her contemplations about the nightmares. 

“I didn’t expect you to be here too.”

Kara jumped up, startled. What was that voice?! And where was it coming from? A wild look sported on her face. She twisted her head to the back, while her eyes darted around suspiciously for the source of the voice. The only sights she could see in the darkest hour of the night was the camp. Someone couldn’t have left their tent, could they? She would’ve heard their footsteps approaching her; the fallen leaves would have exposed their usual muted steps. After taking a minute of skimming the place around, she narrowed her eyes, and turned to the front. There was only pine trees that seem to go on for miles and miles without end. Unless there was some peculiar campers who liked to hike in the woods at who-knows-what-hour, then there wouldn’t any noise (certainly not voices) from there.

“Down here.”

Kara flinched at the low voice, although she managed not to jump this time. She turned her head to the right, and tilted her head downwards, in the direction of the voice. To her side, a young, black-haired boy had laid down on top of the piles of autumn leaves. His arms were crossed behind his head, as he sat there, relaxed. His eyes drifted lazily from the inky-colored sky to her own pair of cerulean eyes. For a long moment, neither uttered a single word to the other. The pair just stared, unwilling to take their eyes off of each other. They waited for the other to speak, to break the spell of quietness casted between the duo. 

Finally, Kiel broke it. He looked back to the sky again, as he sat up to lean against the tree. “I’m guessing we have the same question. I’ll start first. I can’t sleep in the tents. I’m not…” He paused, as he bit his lips. An unsure look surfaced on his face while he averted his eyes. It was the same one he seemed to have at the start of the ice cream shop. “I’m not used to tents. I’ve always slept outside in the wild.”

She nodded. That would make sense. With a home that was extremely similar to medieval Europe, it would be rather odd if he didn’t sleep out the wilderness at one point or another. Especially when he was traveling. She looked back to Kiel, who still seemed to avoid her gaze. Realizing that Kiel couldn’t see her answer in the pitch-black, she gave him a verbal one. “Ah, that makes sense. There‘s more houses taking space than trees in our world, so I’m more used to sleeping inside.” She crouched down to him, and sat by her friend. “Different comfort levels, I suppose?”

Kiel nodded. For a long moment, the fall back onto their comfortable silence, as they stared up into the stars. He bent back, and shuffled against the tree before he turned to her. He raised his eyebrows. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

She bit her bottom lip, and averted her eyes away from him. Her shoulders tensed while she kept staring firmly at the ground. She tapped her fingers anxiously against the bark of the tree, as she hummed a random tune to avoid responding. Did she have to answer? She really didn’t want to. This was the exact thing she so very much wanted to avoid. She didn’t want to explain her anxieties, her troubles, her doubts. It felt wrong—like she was exposing apart of herself she didn’t want others to see. That part she so desperately hid from others. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Kiel, obviously seeing her avoidance, muttered softly, “You really don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I don’t want to pressure you.” 

As she proceeded to process those words, she let out a huge sigh. Her shoulder blades relaxed considerably; it felt as if a huge weight was lifted off her back. She brought her gaze up to meet Kiel, who’s gaze flickered back and forth from the vivid scenery to her, and back again. He clicked his tongue while he waited for her reply. 

“Th...thank you. That means a lot to me—really,” she told him, gratefully. 

Although he didn’t turn back to answer her, she could sense his acknowledgment. Through the darkness, she could spot the a glimpse of a smile, much more serene than his usual confident, cocky, grin. It was calmer, tranquil even. As it was at peace with itself. 

Unable to help herself, Kara’s own face mirrored his. She nudged his hand gently, and offered her own. For a moment, there was a slight hesitation. He took a glance at her to see her encouraging smile adoring her face. He looked back, and took it. He slipped his own calloused hand into her soft fleshy ones. His hands were cold—much colder than her much warm ones, but it eventually began to heat up from the condensing of heat between the two of them. A comfortable silence was bestowed to the duo as they spend their night together, under the vast sheet of stars and dark haze.

If Kara was being honest, cornflower blue didn’t suit Kiel at all. Kiel really couldn’t be considered apart of the wealthy-born class, especially from what she’s heard of the details in his tragic backstory. One could argue he had gained plenty of successes in his life, but he wasn’t downright prosperous. Anyone who had gone up always came down. As people such as themselves, they experienced that plenty. Fortune—that didn’t suit the Magician either. No one was ever truly lucky, only for a little while before they succumb to their fate. She certainly wasn’t, and she doubted she ever will be. All of those things relate similarly to the idea of money, and Kiel Gnomefoot was not made of money and riches. He was worth much more than that.

Realization dawned upon her. She had forgotten the final meaning of cornflower blues; they represented friendship. And that, Kiel represented plenty of. 

Kara sat next to the cornflower for the rest of the night together. She never removed her hand away from his. When the sun rose up, and shone its memorizing rays towards them, the cornflower refused to burn like the dream one had. Instead, it glistened under the morning light. Bright, warm, and welcoming, that was the cornflower.

* * *

“It’s a lot like home,” Kiel said softly. 

He spoke first to break the silence; he usually does when it is between the three of them. Kara can barely hear the teenager. Perhaps it was because of the tranquility in the air that mellowed out his usual loud voice. She watched as him stare at the inky-colored sky that surrounded the entirety of Jupiter City for miles on end. Each star twinkled brightly against the darkened landscape, only able to shine so brightly from the lack of lights that came from the usually bustling city. The familiarity of the scene reminded Kara quite fondly of the camping trip from a year back. She sat down bedside Kiel to offer him a secretive smile, and a hand. Easily, he took her hand and gripped it softly, just like back at the camp. Only the two of them know what happened then. It was the push the two needed for to their close bond. Without that specific trip, the two of them wouldn’t have gotten as close as they are now. A season of friendship can bring plentiful of memories. 

Kara goes back to the sky’s direction, as she brought her knees up to her chest. “I never had the chance to look at the stars. Always busy getting lost in time,” She admitted with a self-depreciating chuckle. She twirled with her hair, while she tapped the other rhythmically against the edge of the building out of pure habit. “Besides, I lived in a suburban house in Wisconsin. I could never see many stars out there—with all the light pollution and everything.” 

“I know what you mean,” another voice chimed in. Kara looked over to a standing Orion. Although his face was covered by his Kid Twilight mask, she could note the usual tension between his shoulders was gone. He walked over to the edge, next to Kara. Through his mask, he admired the scenery like they have. “In the city, there’s no stars. Anywhere. Ever. There’s so much light pollution here that it’s ridiculous,” he scoffed. His face softened considerably when he said, “It wasn't until Dad showed me his observatory did I notice the wonders of this universe.”

Kara smiled peacefully at that. “If the famous Kid Twilight is that knowledgeable about stars and space, is he so willing to bestow his with said knowledge?” she teased, lightly nudging him. Kiel let out a chuckle nearby, unable to hide his amusement from her theatrical dramatics. 

Orion did an uncharacteristic thing in response. He downright _smiled_ at the two of them, and said with a mock bow, “It would be my honor, my lady.” He turned towards Kiel. “Likewise for you, my good sir.” Another bow. 

He sat down by her side, and explained each constellation in thorough detail. He pointed to each grouping of stars, from Cygnus, to Hercules, to Draco. If Orion was given a hand, he didn’t dare protest about it. Nor did he comment about how he removed his glove to easily slipped his much warmer, fleshier hand into her own. 

The trio spent the rest of the night, hand in hand, as they watched over the fiery lights that was luminous in the scenery around them. 


End file.
